Reincarnated
by TurianSoldier
Summary: What happens when a secretive division of the Hierarchy revives the first human spectre? The spectre is no longer human, and the confused, recently revived Shepard must deal with her new reality living as a turian. TurianShepard/Garrus
1. Private Server

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Fill in the following information about yourself:

Name: [redacted]

Species: Turian

Gender: Female

Occupation: Implant Researcher, Medical Doctor

Employer: [redacted]

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[0131] Username changed to [TS].

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VI: Welcome to Private Server #376-59C, TS.

VI: Please wait while a secure connection is established.

VI: Connection established. Please be advised, all server traffic is monitored and will be encrypted to server host standards.

VI: Galactic Standard Time set.

SERVER: [TS] joined the server.

SERVER: [C] joined the server.

SERVER [0132]: The date today is 08 - 26 - 2183

TS [0133]: Sir, Commander Shepard was killed in action today.

C [0134]: I have the uncensored reports. Do we know who destroyed her ship?

TS [0136]: No sir. Our databases can't find a match to any known space-faring vessels.

C [0137]: Did the Systems Alliance recover her body?

TS [0138]: No sir. Her body wasn't found among the wreckage of the Normandy. After two hours, the Systems Alliance called off the search. Is that normal procedure? Two hours seems like an awfully short amount of time to search for a single body among the wreckage of a frigate.

C [0140]: No, it is not normal procedure. A high ranking official in the Systems Alliance is likely susceptible to bribes.

TS [0140]: So someone wants her corpse then.

C [0141]: It would seem so. Find out what you can and report your findings.

TS [0141]: Yes sir.

SERVER [0148]: User [TS] is no longer active.

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SERVER [1402]: User [TS] is now online.

SERVER [1403]: User [TS] is currently active.

SERVER [1403]: The date today is 09 - 03 - 2183

TS [1403]: Sir, I have a lead. An unmarked shuttle was seen leaving the scene of the wreckage.

C [1404]: Do we know where this shuttle went?

TS [1404]: Several reports list the shuttle being docked on Omega, sir.

C [1405]: Authorize a team to investigate the shuttle and its occupants. If they have the commander, report back immediately. A plan of action will be drafted.

TS [1405]: I'm on it now, sir. The 9th platoon will be sent to investigate.

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SERVER [1983]: The date today is 09 - 05 - 2183

TS [1984]: The 9th platoon made contact, sir.

C [1984]: Good. What did they find?

TS [1986]: It appears that the shuttle is registered to a shell corporation previously known to coordinate with the Shadow Broker. The pilots were in the process of making a trade. The platoon leader confirmed that the Broker's agents possessed the commander's body, but a third party stole her corpse before this supposed trade could go through.

C [1987]: Do we know the identity of the third party?

TS [1987]: The 9th is in the process of identifying them now.

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SERVER [0621]: The date today is 09 - 06 - 2183

TS [0622]: The 9th platoon reported in. They engaged the unidentified individuals and are now engrossed in conflict. The third party is well armed and consists of humans. What are your orders, sir?

C [0623]: Find the leader and interrogate them. Neutralize the human soldiers.

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SERVER [1664]: The date today is 09 - 08 - 2183

TS [1665]: The 9th platoon's commander reported in. They apprehended the leader and the enemy squad was neutralized, as ordered.

C [1665]: What were the results of the interrogation?

TS [1667]: They forced a name out of the human leader. Miranda Lawson. I put her name through our database, but we have no information on her.

C [1668]: She likely came to the station on a shuttle of her own. Tell the 9th to find it. It should determine the human's employer.

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SERVER [0944]: The date today is 09 - 09 - 2183

TS [0945]: They found her shuttle and pulled all the data they could from its computer, sir. Someone was erasing it remotely, so we didn't get much. What we _do_ know is that she works for a pro-human terrorist group called Cerberus.

C [0946]: We will deal with them when the time comes. Did the 9th platoon recover the commander's body?

TS [0946]: Yes sir. The commander is secured and the 9th platoon is on its way back now.

C [0947]: Good. Return to base as soon as you are able, and bring her with you. We are not returning the commander's body to the humans.

TS [0947]: I apologize for the insubordination sir, but why not? What possible use could we have for a human corpse?

C [0948]: Doctor, she has valuable intel about an enemy the Council ignored. And in response to your other query, our organization recently diverted funds to a project that revives the deceased. We need her.

TS [0951]: Understood, sir.

C [0951]: I am putting you in charge of this project. We all saw the Citadel when Sovereign attacked. If more of these "reapers" come, the commander may be our only hope.

TS [0952]: She is human, sir. The Relay Incident has made relations between our species rather sour. Why are you so sure she will work with us?

C [0952]: We've been watching her for years. She acts more turian than human and genuinely believes in saving lives, no matter the species.

TS [0953]: It is a pity the commander is human then. The hierarchy could use a soldier like her.

C [0953]: The project was not put into place to bring her back as a human.

TS [0953]: Sir?

C [0954]: We need a new Spectre operative and I want it to be her. Arterius smeared the integrity of our species with his status and we are in crucial need of good press. The hierarchy will get their soldier. Bring her to our side, doctor.

TS [0955]: Consider it my top priority.

TS [0960]: Permission to speak freely sir?

C [0961]: Granted.

TS [0961]: What is she like? I've only heard rumors and the vids don't reveal much. Unlike the rest of her species, she keeps quiet.

C [0962]: Unconventional, but with good morals. And _our_ species, doctor. I do hope you remember what we just discussed.

TS [0962]: I pride myself with my warm receptions, sir.

C [0963]: See to it that she becomes the pinnacle of our species.

TS [0963]: With pleasure, sir.

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VI: [TS] omnitool initiating factory reset.

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VI: Welcome, unregistered user. Please follow the instructions on screen to set up your omnitool.


	2. Mourning a Friend

_Location: Omega, Afterlife - Terminus Systems_

Garrus sat in one of the many sleazy bars on Omega, pondering his life choices. The blue armor he commonly wore was branded with the year old nickname of Archangel, shining in the dull red light of the lower sections of Afterlife. He never particularly liked Omega, but most criminals escaped through the station to commit serious crimes, all of which affected life everywhere else. On the Citadel, he couldn't touch them. Here, he could cause as much damage to the mercenary groups as he wanted. He found that it was a way to enact proper justice on those who were wronged by C-Sec's policies. Despite each victory and every life he improved though, it all felt wrong.

"Bartender," he called, lifting an arm up to garner his attention. The bartender was a slender, older turian man who couldn't be more than seventy. Turians lived to around 150 years of age and usually kept their mobility, so this was nothing unusual. The man walked over to Garrus, throwing a cleaning towel over his shoulder as he leaned against the bar with both hands. "Archangel, what can I get for you?"

"Turian Horosk," he responded, sighing sadly. "It's the anniversary of my friend's death."

Garrus made it a tradition to buy a drink in Shepard's honor once a year on the day of her death. It was something he, along with the rest of the surviving Normandy crew, had vowed to do every year to celebrate their commander, no matter where they were or what they were doing. On this day, he always found himself drinking more than usual, often getting drunk in a futile attempt to forget she had passed. She changed his life drastically, and because of her, he could confidently say that he was a changed man. A better man.

The bartender poured him a glass of the heavy dextro liquor, finishing it off with two large ice cubes before heading off to clean the counter space next to him.

"Good friend, I presume? They must've meant something if you're drinking booze this heavy...and expensive." The man was looking at him, stopping temporarily to interact with him. Garrus gave a small nod as he picked up the glass, sipping its contents.

"One of the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of knowing." The bartender returned his nod, leaving to tend to another customer.

Garrus dwelled on his thoughts once more. Spirits, he missed her. It dawned on him that maybe this was the reason why he felt so empty, and why everything he did felt so wrong. The more he thought about his actions, the more he came to realize that Shepard would be disappointed in him. She would want him to follow his passion, not waste his life in the bowels of the Terminus Systems. He sat on the barstool, staring at the half empty glass while he continued to sulk. His thoughts briefly turned to her funeral. He hated her funeral. While the human Systems Alliance never actually found her body, it was yet another reminder that his best, and only friend, was no longer around. He actively blocked that part of his memory, or any memory that contained his old commander. Thinking about her after her death had always been painful, but today he let the feelings roam free. It was the second year anniversary of her death, after all.

Before Garrus could ask for another glass of Turian Horosk, his omnitool gently beeped, focusing his attention away from the second drink. He grumbled at the glowing orange tool, swiping across the screen to view his messages. The messenger app held many new messages, most of them unread and barely acknowledged by the irritated turian. Conversations with Wrex, Tali, and rarely Liara, were the most common; the other messages, the majority of which being Hierarchy correspondence or family messages, went completely unanswered and for the most part, ignored outright. He debated what to do about the messages, ultimately deciding to go through his unread folder outside. The air in the club nauseated him anyway.

Garrus walked upstairs and pushed the doors of the Afterlife nightclub open, breathing in the recirculated station air. The smells still bothered him, but he found it more tolerable outside compared to the cramped bar area. He took a moment to breathe before leaning against a nearby wall, opening his omnitool. There were a total of forty-seven unread messages. It was common for him to delete most new messages, but a few managed to pique his interest. Settling on reading through the few he selected, Garrus began sifting through his inbox.

User: Garrus Vakarian

Inbox order: Oldest - Newest

Time format: Galactic Standard Time (GST) - 20 hour days

—-

To: Garrus Vakarian

From: Tali'Zorah vas Neema

Time: 2759 GST 12/2183

Subject: Progressing

Hey Garrus,

It's been a while since we talked. I just want to know if you're alright; no one's managed to pry a full conversation out of you since the commander passed. You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to. Keelah, I'm just concerned. We all are. I wish our time with the Normandy crew lasted longer.

-Tali

—-

As much as he liked Tali, she was right. He wasn't willing to talk about Shepard's death with her or the rest of the crew. This was something he wanted to suffer alone.

He exited the message, pulling up a holo of the Normandy crew after their battle with Saren. Everyone looked so happy, drinks in hand and smiles plastered on various faces. He was standing next to Shepard, clinking glasses with her. Tali, Wrex, and Liara were in close proximity too. The booze they all consumed loosened their usually stressed selves and as a result of that, they celebrated. His mandibles spread into a small smile at the reminder of such a good memory. He had made the picture his terminal wallpaper and would find himself staring at it on particularly bad days, like today. Garrus looked at the picture for a few minutes before closing it, going back to view his unread messages.

—-

To: Officer Vakarian

From: Executor Pallin

Time: 1304 GST 01/2184

Subject: Whereabouts

Where are you? I knew your decisions were rash at times, but this? You were an excellent officer, Vakarian. I just find it difficult to comprehend that I'm reading your resignation form. Chellik is worried about you, as am I. Wherever you are, please think about what you're doing. And when you feel ready to think rationally, C-Sec is still here, waiting for you.

-Executor Venari Pallin

—-

Garrus grunted at the text in front of him. He had no plans on returning to C-Sec, despite Pallin's wishes. Ignoring the message, he scrolled down on the viewer to sift through the next one.

—-

To: Garrus Vakarian

From: Liara T'Soni

Time: 0736 GST 03/2184

Subject: Garrus?

Garrus,

No one has heard from you in quite some time. Are you alright? I know you probably won't tell me if you aren't, but I thought it necessary to ask anyway. Please respond soon so I can tell Tali something. She keeps trying to leverage my position to get information about you.

Not that I can find any.

Please, stay safe.

-Liara

P.S. An urgent matter has come up. I may be gone for a few months. If you respond, please direct your message to my encrypted terminal inbox on Illium.

—-

It had been a while since he had actually responded to any of the messages his friends sent him. He rarely used the messenger on his omnitool in fear that his friends could be used to go after him. The gangs on Omega were not above travelling elsewhere to kill people who had nothing to do with them, so long as it crushed the morale of their enemy: him. He would have none of it. They were too important to risk.

—-

To: Garrus Vakarian

From: Urdnot Wrex

Time: 1727 GST 07/2184

Subject: no subject

Hey turian,

You still kicking out there? If you are, don't get shot. You're not funny, but you aren't unbearable either. Stay alive.

-Wrex

—-

Wrex? He could risk him. The krogan could handle himself. It was a surprise that the old man sent him anything though. The large krogan hardly ever talked to people, let alone Garrus. The two had trouble adjusting to each other at first, the krogan having a grudge against turians for the genophage. Unlike other krogan though, Wrex was smart. He knew to speak when it was necessary and never missed an opportunity to teach Garrus about the less pleasant places outside Council Space. If he was messaging him, then he really should take into consideration how closed off he was for the last two years. He quickly shot off a reply to the old message, stating that he was indeed alive before moving on to the remaining queue.

—-

To: Garrus Vakarian

From: Castis Vakarian

CC: Solana Vakarian

Time: 1924 GST 02/2185

Subject: Read Your Messages

Son,

Please read your messages. Your sister and I are concerned about you and your mother has gotten worse. The routine Corpalis treatments are not working. Come home whenever you are able.

—-

His father was a Hierarch within High Command, so it was no surprise that his message was short, to the point, and marked as 'important'.

While he loved his mother with everything he had, he just couldn't find the courage to see her, weak and writhing in a bed while dying a slow, miserable death. He couldn't take it. He had already lost too much in his life and didn't want to see more go. Instead, he'd continue his work here, on Omega. Garrus vowed a long time ago to make a dent in the criminal population and maybe for once, he could do something Shepard and his mother alike would be proud of. He left the rest of his inbox unread, not in the mood to sift through more painful memories. He decided to return to base. Sidonis wanted his attention with a mission anyway.


	3. Trauma Bay

_Location: Unknown_

The Normandy was on fire. She remembered that.

A few minutes before the attack, Shepard had been getting ready for some shut-eye, sitting at her terminal. She had been writing a report to the Council when she heard Joker sound the alarms. Before anything could be processed into logical thought, she heard an explosion, followed by screams. The armor she was currently wearing would have to do. She rushed out of her quarters, locating the emergency beacon to alert the Alliance. The rest gets blurry after that; she remembers having to haul Joker out of the cockpit, but not much else. He was put in an escape pod, but she didn't make it. The beam firing on the Normandy cut a hole into what was left of the hull and seconds later, the bridge was gone; the whole thing was caught in an explosion. Through the resulting explosion, she was violently thrown into space, desperate while she watched what was left of her ship explode. The N7 light armor she was wearing ruptured and the tube connecting the oxygen tank had been cut. All of the air was in the process of leaking out while cracking made itself apparent on her helmet visor. Suffocating was a painful way to go. She remembered being cold, on the border of freezing. Hypothermia, she guessed. She couldn't remember which one got her first. Her heart was beating furiously while vividly replaying the trauma over and over again in her head.

"..Doctor? Doctor, her vitals are unstable. She's having another episode."

She tried to place the voice. It was dual toned, flanged, and masculine. Male, turian, and not Garrus. Another voice was heard in the background, conversing with the first.

"We need more medigel. Protrusions in the arm and head reopened. The patient won't stay conscious for much longer. I need you to run a full detail scan on…."

This voice was similar to the first. Also flanged, but a higher pitch. Another turian, this one female; likely the doctor the other one talked about. And true to the turian's words, she passed out like a light.

Her trauma started playing out again, fresh from where she left off. The space around her small, struggling form was empty as she watched what was left of her ship burn. Her memories replayed the Normandy exploding in front of her. She was launched into space and her body fell towards the planet below. She was cold, very cold. Her life flashed before her eyes as she descended towards her icy tomb.

Alchera. She remembered the planet was called Alchera.

Memories went by one by one in a blur as she continued her speedy descent, unable to breathe. Now she remembered: suffocation got her first.

She remembered the hardships she faced, the friends she made, and the ones she lost. Saren committed suicide, the Alliance saved the Council, she played a part in Sovereign's destruction, and at the end, appointed Anderson as the human councillor. Her mission was a success; the results were bittersweet. Her crew had to go their separate ways and because of that, goodbyes were in order. Those were the hardest.

Shepard hated goodbyes, but wanted her crew to be sent off the right way. They were wonderful people and she felt they deserved her best behavior.

Tali felt like a sister to her, so the two hugged and parted ways. She completed her pilgrimage and with Shepard's help, retrieved the data she needed on the Geth. Liara was relatively similar, also hugging her before she left on a shuttle. Wrex was not a man of many words, but told her that she was the only human he had come to respect. He then promptly left. Garrus was different, being more quiet and reserved at first. He requested that the two keep in regular contact via the extranet while he proceeded to achieve his goal of becoming a Spectre. She wrote him a glowing recommendation and in return, he gave her a small trinket to hang on her dog tags; it was a small metal emblem that looked like a turian hand. The item hung proudly on her tags and remained there until the end. She gripped her dog tags, silently thanking her crew, thanking Garrus, for making her life as wonderful as it was. She was at peace, and then she died.

The rest of her dream was occupied by darkness and the vague, far away sound of voices. They would cut through sometimes and she would hear snippets of medical speak, but not enough to make the words out with any clarity. She could hear her heart beating again, furious with its movements as she came to realize that she should be dead. Why wasn't she dead? Who were those turians? Why was she here?

"...There, on the monitor. Something's wrong." The female turian paced around the room, checking the monitor with the male turian following suit.

"She's reacting to outside stimuli. Showing an awareness to her surroundings." A lengthy pause ensued before the male started speaking again. "Doctor, I think she's waking up." The male's voice was elevated to a level of concern she had not yet heard from him. Her eyes peered open slightly to catch a limited view of what was happening around her.

The female moved to examine her, concern written all over what should've been an inexpressive face. "She isn't ready yet! Check her stats!"

A flurry of movement was quickly followed by an exasperated gasp as medical equipment was moved forcefully to the side. The male checked what she assumed was her heart rate monitor. "Her vitals are pushing into the red zone!"

"Inject her with fluids!"

"I did! They aren't working!"

"Sedative! Inject the sedative!"

She could see the turians in front of her clearly now as she tried unsuccessfully to get off the bed. The female walked behind her, using both hands to hold her down while the male wandered off to get a sedative. The female was leaning over her, about a foot shorter than the adult male. Her colony markings were red and more profound than those of her partner. She was wearing dark blue scrubs and an apron stained blue from copious amounts of turian blood. A mask covered most of her face and her mandibles fluttered with what she assumed was worry.

The male turian was taller than his female colleague, coming in at about seven feet and had purple colony markings lining the bottom of his mandibles. He was wearing a white lab coat that tightly hugged his carapace and black pants that accented his leg spurs. The male turian grabbed a mask as he approached, putting it on while simultaneously handling a large syringe in his hand. Once he arrived, he gently grabbed her arm, injecting the contents of the syringe into it. It took a few seconds, but her heart beat drastically decreased as she started to feel more calm. A sudden sense of drowsiness came over her. The doctors started talking again when she was on the verge of sleep.

"Heart rate dropping. Her stats are falling back into the normal range." The male let out a long, heavy sigh, hulking over the nearby medical equipment. "That was too close... We almost lost her."

"Run more tests. She needs more time to adjust to the new body. Moving her consciousness into it left her in a state of temporary vulnerability. I'll watch over her to see if her condition changes. Write a report, Control needs to know about this."

The female doctor finished her diagnosis while the male did as he was instructed, walking out of the room to write a report. Shepard drifted off shortly after, falling into a state of dreamless sleep.


	4. Awakening

_Location: Unknown_

The ground shook around Shepard as she lay dormant on her bed. What she assumed to be the operating room was cold and smelled of antiseptic, but that was nothing unusual; the smell of death was always prevalent in an operating room. Partially asleep, she closed her eyes again before an explosion nearby shook her awake. She could hear screams outside as she struggled to get up, slowly easing her eyes open.

"_Wake up, Commander._" The voice belonged to the female turian doctor from earlier. Her eyes eventually opened to blurry surroundings, a likely side effect that her eyes were not used for a long period of time. "_Commander, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now - this facility is under attack._" Gunfire could be heard outside as she lifted herself off the bed. Shepard grimaced, holding her side in pain. Apparently, she hadn't fully recovered from whatever this doctor had done to her yet. "_Commander. Your scars are not fully healed, but I need you to get moving._"

She hoisted herself up and out of the oddly shaped surgical bed, clutching her side again temporarily before standing up straight. She probably tore a wound open from her sudden movements, hence the pain. Her hand felt wet with what she assumed was blood. She looked down at the floor to see a small puddle of blue blood pooling under her hand. Wait, blue? She brushed the thought aside and chalked it up to her brain playing tricks on her. After all, she just woke up from what looked like a medically induced coma. Hallucinations were normal. Her arm fell to her side as she observed her surroundings clearly for the first time. The room was small, white, clean, and square in its design. What she assumed to be medical equipment littered all available space aside from her bed, a few countertops, and a sink.

After her brief examination, the female turian speaking over the intercom interrupted her thoughts. "_There's a pistol in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry!_" Doing as she was told, Shepard opened the locker on the other side of the room, revealing a Carnifex heavy pistol sitting inside. She grabbed the gun with her hand, but her grip felt off. She toyed with the grip on the pistol, readjusting her finger positions. She theorized that what used to be a five fingered hand was now a three fingered hand. Damn, she must've lost some fingers. When she moved to check the ammo, she looked down at the grip she was holding tightly. She didn't lose fingers as she had initially expected. Instead, she was literally staring at a turian hand. Her eyes widened at the surprise. Shepard moved her fingers, testing her hand to see if the illusion would go away. To her shock, it didn't. The turian fingers did exactly what she had commanded her own fingers to do.

Shepard had to be dreaming. "No no no, this can't be real! I have no ammo in this pistol, one of my wounds tore open, and now I want to know what the fuck you did to my hand!" Through the explosions, she could barely hear herself, but the change in her voice was there: it was dual toned, like a turian.

The female over the intercom sighed, likely annoyed. "_For spirits sake, breathe! Now isn't the time to panic - we'll discuss the conditions of your revival later! And as for the pistol? It's a med bay, commander!_"

A collection of power cells outside the med bay blew up, effectively shutting her up for now. The voice was right - the proper time for a mental breakdown came later. Her position was under attack and she wouldn't be caught with her pants down, not again. Not after the Normandy. She shivered at the thought.

The explosion cleared her path through what used to be locked doors. One of the bodies outside, likely an enemy combatant, had flown her direction. It landed on the ground in front of her with a thermal clip attached to its belt. She took the clip off the corpse, quickly loading her pistol. Turning over the charred body revealed what used to be a human man clad in white, yellow, and black armor. "Cerberus," she quietly muttered, hearing the dual tone in her voice again. Shepard wanted to break the mandible of whoever changed it.

"_They hit the station hard when they found out we were holding you here_," the doctor interrupted, pulling Shepard out of her mandible breaking daydream.

"Who is _we_, exactly?" Her tone turned hostile and she swore she heard herself snarling at the doctor. She couldn't control it. The sound was almost instinctual in that sense. Why did she snarl? What the hell did these turians turn her into?

The voice sighed again, clearly irritated with the direction their conversation had turned. "_Not important. Keep moving._"

With an audible growl, Shepard made her way outside.

She saw a few turian soldiers shooting at a collection of Cerberus troops while running for cover behind a makeshift barricade. They didn't make it in time. The two turian troops went down in a matter of seconds, outnumbered by the enemy combatants. She hid behind the turians' barricade, firing on the human soldiers. One by one, they went down, each with a well focused shot from her pistol. Once she knew the soldiers were dead, she made her way towards an open hallway. The alarms that blared were louder here, hurting her ears slightly as she moved forward toward another door. Corpses littered the floor as she passed while she checked the perimeter for movement. Clear, she thought.

Through a window to her right, a large mech piloted by a Cerberus soldier proceeded to rip holes through three unfortunate turian soldiers. They were in a tight spot, backed into a corner. Their blue blood splattered over the windows as she watched them die in front of her. She didn't even try hiding the horrified expression plastered on her face.

"_Commander, they knew what they signed on for when they joined this project._" The voice kept a respectful tone when referring to the fallen men seconds prior. "_Please keep moving, more Cerberus troops are heading your way._" Shepard silently said a few words about the fallen soldiers. She prayed to their spirits, the turian spirits, before moving on.

The hallway she traversed led to a balcony overlooking a storage area. "_There should be a grenade launcher on the fallen soldier in front of you. Relieve him of it and neutralize the troops coming ahead._" A fallen turian corpse lay beneath her, clutching the aforementioned grenade launcher. She silently apologized to the dead man before taking his weapon, proceeding to position herself with practiced ease when the doors below opened. She fired. Her grenade landed under a gas tank the group of hostiles was far too close to. The Cerberus operatives on the floor below her were caught in an explosion of Shepard's creation.

"_Take the elevator down one floor._"

Shepard quickly located a large cargo elevator that ran up the length of the wall. She did as instructed, tapping on a control panel that allowed for her to be taken down a floor. Fires had broken out from the explosion, spewing through punctured holes in the fuel tanks. "_I'm detecting gas leaks in your area. Run through the fires quickly to avoid unnecessary injury._"

Again, she did as she was told, holing up in another hallway. "_Excellent work Commander, we'll rendezvous at-t-t m… loc..ion._"

Someone was jamming their communications. She had to be getting closer to the source of Cerberus' involvement if their line was breaking up so suddenly. The doctor went quiet for a few seconds before the sound of her voice filled her comms again. "_Spirits! I h..-ve Cerb-us troops cl...ing in on m-m-my pos...ion. F...d a w.-y to th-e sh..tle bay, we'..l meet th..r.e. Sur-..raka ou..-t._"

Permanent radio silence followed as she moved her way through a few connecting hallways and up a flight of stairs. She found herself holed up in a small office, sharing the space with two Cerberus bodies. Shepard leaned against the wall, clutching the same side that had bothered her previously.

The wound that tore open when she woke up started bleeding again. When Shepard turned to look at the tear, she knew her mind wasn't playing tricks; her three fingered hand was covered in blue blood. She could see the connections now, clear as day. She had three fingered hands, blue blood, and her voice was flanged; all features present on a turian.

She searched the small office, digging her new talons into drawers and rummaging through the desk in hopes of finding something with a reflective surface. Maybe a mirror would make itself apparent. Her actions were rewarded with a stainless steel surgical tray. The panic was settling in and she wanted to know what she looked like. She dumped the tools off the tray and took a good, hard look at herself.

A female turian face greeted her on the reflective surface of the tray. Her mandibles clicked and the browplates moved to match her surprised expression. She decided to talk and see how the face would react.

"I'm Commander Jane Shepard, Alliance Navy."

The mouth moved exactly to the rhythm of her words and the mandibles fluttered each time she felt shocked. This was her face. Her brand new, exceedingly turian face. She didn't want to look at it anymore, but at the same time, found that she couldn't look away.

Long, protruding mandibles covered the sides of her jaw and her once prominent nose now sat flush with the rest of her face. She had beige face plates that contrasted with the darker brown shades of her leathery hide. What she assumed to be her fringe extended to the sides of her head, making their way towards the back while the top of her head remained bare. Despite how different she was now, Shepard found a certain beauty to the intricate patterns of her new face. And while almost everything about her was different, these turians had at least left her eyes the same shade of green; a small comfort.

Shepard put the surgical tray down on the counter next to her, fully intent on looking over the rest of herself. She was wearing a standard armor undersuit common with most turians, but found that her hands were exposed. For her feet, the turians working on her had given her boots; having a total of four toes with only two on each foot was disconcerting to say the least. With her hands, she had three sharp, taloned fingers per arm. How an entire species got anything done with so few fingers was beyond her. Garrus always said she had too many. Shepard smiled while recalling the fond memory. She missed him.

"Hell Garrus," she said, talking to herself while looking at her reflection in the tray again. "You always said I would make a good turian." An empty and bitter laugh emerged from her throat. "Look at me now."

Shepard sighed, setting down the tray again. She'd seen her reflection enough for now. Bending down, she looted the thermal clips from the Cerberus corpses before heading out into the outside hallway. Her current objective was to get to the shuttle bay. She reached the end of the relatively short corridor with a few paces; the perks of having a new set of long legs. 'Dog legs' Ashley had inelegantly called them.

On the other side of an unlocked doorway was a large, open balcony. Gunfire echoed through the halls she stood in as she watched a single turian soldier fighting, taking cover behind a thick glass railing. She sprinted her way towards the soldier, taking out two of the Cerberus soldiers with a single dash before joining the man behind his cover. She took a deep breath, reloading her pistol.

From what she gathered, the turian soldier was shocked to see her; his expression bordered on genuine confusion. The soldier's plates were a dark beige color with white colony markings covering the majority of his face. He had a more bulky appearance than the first male she saw with the doctor. His gray armor only added to the bulk, effectively making him the living manifestation of a tank. The man's grey eyes stared straight into her own as he started speaking. "Commander, what are you doing here? They said you were still a work in progress."

She tilted her head in confusion. "I just woke up! You probably know more than I do!" Her mandibles flared in annoyance and a high pitched sound escaped her throat. Were those her sub harmonics? The male turian registered her response, turing to fire on two more Cerberus troops. Afterwards, he responded with a sound similar to hers, his mandibles fluttering less aggressively. Apparently they were. From what she learned from Garrus, sub harmonics couldn't be controlled and provided insight on how a turian was feeling. They were instinct and appeared whether or not you wanted them to. This was going to be hard.

"My apologies, commander. I forgot this scenario is entirely new to you. I'm Augumus Declinus. I've been stationed here for—" He stopped mid sentence when a massive explosion destroyed the right section of the balcony they were standing on. It held, but the structural support was drastically weaker. Augumus growled. "Tarc! The situation must be much worse than I imagined if Taana let you loose. I'll explain your predicament, but we should get to the shuttle bay first."

Shepard hugged the railing cover, her pistol secured firmly in her talons. "I know this isn't the best time, but I'm sick of stumbling around when I don't know what's going on."

Augumus huffed, shooting the last Cerberus trooper on the opposite balcony. "I suppose you do deserve an answer, despite how rushed I must make it." He took a deep breath. "You and your ship were attacked by an unknown vessel, resulting in the destruction of the Normandy. You died from asphyxiation due to a suit rupture you acquired in the explosion. When we brought you here, you were nothing more than ground up lecra with some electronics slapped on for good measure. Our scientists dedicated the last two years placing your consciousness into a new body." He smiled, his mandibles fluttering slightly as his gray eyes focused on her again. "I was hoping to give you a proper welcome back to the land of living spirits, but Cerberus ruined my plans."

She stared at him silently with an intensity that made him flinch. On any other day, she would be proud. "Two _years?_" While she kept a stoic face, her sub harmonics revealed her distress. Damn it.

He nodded, directing her towards another hallway. They both raised their pistols and continued their conversation while walking. "The Human Systems Alliance officially declared you killed in action and the whole galaxy thinks you're dead. They gave up on you. We didn't. We wrestled with Cerberus to retrieve you because we need a hero soldiers and civilians alike can look up to. I can tell you more later, commander. Right now, we need to get to the shuttle bay. You know from experience that Cerberus doesn't play nice."

Shepard wanted to continue her interrogation with Augumus, but she knew he had a point. The whole station was a combat zone and she could always ask more questions when they were a safe distance away. Waving her hand, she motioned for him to follow as she continued navigating hallways. "When I first woke up, someone named Surraka was talking to me over the intercom. I think she was the doctor that worked on me."

"Yes, her name is Taana Surraka. She's the head of Project Tarin, the project created to revive you. It was her job to bring you back to life. She poured two years and virtually unlimited resources into you, so forgive me if I'm not surprised she tried to save you, commander." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Can you still contact her? Communications have been spotty since Cerberus arrived."

Shepard stopped in her tracks, looking around the corner wall and scanning the perimeter. When it was confirmed the area was clear of hostiles, she glanced in his direction again. "Negative. I lost contact with her a few minutes prior to our meet up. She said Cerberus troops were closing in on her location and told me to make my way to the shuttle bay."

Augumus paused, evaluating the possible courses of action they could pursue. He motioned for her to follow, escorting her up a flight of stairs. "Our best option is a direct approach towards the shuttle bay. Knowing Taana, she's doing everything in her power to get there now."

The two kept walking with their pistols drawn, killing any hostiles they encountered along the way. Their journey was relatively uneventful, mostly consisting of stepping over corpses and looting heat sinks. Augumus took point, acting as a tour guide through the war torn turian station. The few live troops they ran into saluted her guide and followed the two of them as additional backup. He was likely one of the higher ranking torins among the crew stationed here. Shepard made a mental note to ask him about that later.

The group rounded a corner into a large hallway under heavy fire from Cerberus soldiers. The three turian soldiers following them saluted and departed to assist in fighting off the wave of heavily armed human supremacists. Gunfire turned to echos as the two paced side by side, distancing themselves away from the scene.

"The shuttle bay is just up there," Augumus said, gesturing to a large staircase up ahead. He motioned for her to follow. "Let's get you out of here."

"What about everyone else? Do they have a way off this station?"

He turned to face her. "Commander, a good majority of station personnel already left on shuttles or escape pods. Those who didn't are soldiers engaged in armed conflict around the station. They will be aided; rest assured, backup is on the way. We did, however, lose many good men today... May the spirits guide the souls of those who lost their lives." He put his head down as he walked, silently thanking the deceased for their sacrifice. Shepard did the same. She hated losing good soldiers in a fight. Knowing they were good people made the sacrifice even harder to bear.

They reached the top of the stairs, scanning the perimeter for any sign of a threat. There were none.

The shuttle bay was powered down with the emergency lighting illuminating the area. Only a single shuttle remained parked and the docking clamps were tightly locked in place around it.

"This is our way off the station Commander," he said, sealing the doors behind him. Augumus looked up towards the darkened ceiling, registering slight movement. He smiled, cupping his hands around his mouth to call out to the person above them. "Hello Taana, nice of you to join us! I was told you were occupied by Cerberus troops! I must say, they don't make for good company!"

A silhouette shadowed in the darkness of the ceiling jumped down from one of the roof pillars and onto the floor. The female turian looked between the two of them, setting her eyes on the commander. "Whoever told you that would be right." Her mandibles fluttered slightly, widening into a smile. "Hello, Commander. Doctor Taana Surraka," she said, giving her a turian salute. "I'm the head of Project Tarin. We talked earlier when you woke up." Taana looked behind her to check the doors Augumus sealed. They were clear, but that wouldn't last long. "I promise to tell you more once we leave the station. Right now, we're short on time." Once she finished her brief introduction, she pointed her talon to the worn out armor undersuit Shepard was wearing, gently flicking aside some of the worn fabric. Upon closer inspection, the doctor noticed blue blood clotting on the side she poked. The commander wasn't fully healed yet and likely tore something. Taana sighed. "You were scheduled to wake up two weeks from now. I suppose it was too much for me to hope nothing would tear open."

Augumus glared at Taana for her sarcastic remark. Now was not the time for her criticisms. His sub harmonics rang out loudly as his mandibles fluttered with irritation. "We need to tend to her injuries _immediately._ Taana, prep the shuttle."

She grumbled, heading in the direction of the shuttle. A few seconds later, it powered up and the engines came to life. The clamps around the turian shuttle released, leaving it floating above its designated landing pad.

"Come on," Augumus spoke, gesturing Shepard to follow with an outstretched hand.

She followed him into the shuttle, taking a seat across from the two occupants. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this station to last a lifetime."

Taana leaned back in her seat as the shuttle door closed. "Or two in your case."


	5. Means of Control

**To the Guest-Questioner who keeps commenting on my works:**

**Please note that this site does not let me respond to you or anything you write to me since your profile isn't a registered user.**

_Location: Enroute to [redacted]_

Shepard sat across from the two other turians in the shuttle, staring out the window at the empty atmosphere of space outside. Looking at the stars wasn't as comforting as it used to be and her side still hurt. Taana slathered an entire tube of dextro medi gel in the wound, but the dull pain was still there. She was lost in her thoughts, turning her gaze to the floor while not actually gazing at anything. She daydreamed a lot on the SR1 too. At least they didn't change that about her.

Shepard looked up and noticed the two other shuttle occupants looking at her. Taana hid her emotions behind a cold and calculated mask while Augumus remained neutral. The doctor straightened herself, focusing her gaze on her while Augumus pulled up a few files on his omnitool. "Before you meet with Control," she started, "we need to ask a few questions to evaluate your condition."

"Taana, are these tests required? The Commander cleared a path through the Cerberus soldiers with a pistol. It takes us years to train similar talent." His neutral face briefly turned up a grin after stating the compliment. Shepard was too focused on Taana to notice.

"She's been dead two years, Augumus," she said, looking at the Commander. Her stare was still cold, but Shepard could tell she was curious. "We need to confirm that her personality and memories are intact. Start with personal history."

Augumus faked an annoyed sigh, chuckling lightly afterwards as he pulled up a new file on his omnitool. "Let the testing commence; our records show you grew up on Earth. Files pertaining to your personal life before your military career are practically nonexistent, but we do know that you were orphaned at a young age. At the galactic standard age of eighteen, you enlisted in the Systems Alliance and won a medal fighting Batarians during the Skyllian Blitz. Do you remember this?"

Shepard quietly recollected the unpleasant memory. The Batarians were relentless savages and it had taken everything to hold her position. Soldiers were dragged away left and right, their enemies taunted them mercilessly, and supplies had dwindled far faster than she originally thought they would. Added to that, the panicking civilians didn't help. Mobilizing them was the best and only option. When the Alliance finally showed up, it had been a major victory.

"A lot of lives depended on me holding that position. I did what I had to."

The answer seemed to satisfy Augumus. "However you wish to put it, you were an excellent combatant. My regiment was impressed with the skills you demonstrated and I confess, they are not the easiest to please. Is this enough information to go on, Taana?" He turned to the doctor for a response.

She shook her head. "Not yet. Let's move to a more recent event." She turned to Shepard, visibly tensing before asking the next question. Once it left her mandibles, she immediately knew why. "On Virmire, where you destroyed Saren's cloning facility, you had to leave a member of your squad behind to die in the blast."

Shepard kept her face as neutral as possible. She didn't know these turians very well and had no intention of letting them see her squirm. Unfortunately for her, Augumus continued where Taana left off.

"Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams was killed in action. The reports say that it was your decision. Why did you leave her behind?" He gave her a look after visibly tensing, knowing full well how she felt about their line of questioning. Shepard wasn't fluid with turian facial expressions, but was mildly certain his gaze was one of sympathy. She understood. The questions were required, despite the pain they brought forth. He thought they were disrespectful to her, Taana was indifferent, and Shepard retained her silence. She would endure.

"I left a friend to die that day and I didn't do it casually. I had to save as many people as I could. Ash gave her life for the rest of the team. Without her, I couldn't stop Saren. She died a hero."

"I understand, Commander. I'm not judging your decision. Both my regiment and my superiors agreed that Saren's facility had to be destroyed. The man was a disgrace to the turian race." He turned to the doctor again. "Is this enough information, Taana?"

"There are other tests we should run—"

"Come on Taana. Please stop testing the Commander. I know from personal experience that these questions can be emotionally draining. She has the memories, and I can vouch for her combat skills."

After a short pause, she let out a sigh. "I suppose you're right. Let us hope that Control accepts our little field test as evidence enough."

—

_Location: [redacted]_

Shepard disembarked from the shuttle and walked into a large, open room with a massive window looking out into space. She restrained herself from glancing outside, instead focusing her attention on Taana. The doctor was typing away on a small terminal located in front of an unlocked door. Augumus stood to the side near the exit, leaning back on the railing while reading documents on his omnitool.

"Control will see you now, Commander. He's waiting for you on the other side of that door," she said, pointing to the door behind her. The button was shining a welcoming green, indicating that it was unlocked. She entered through the door and went down the stairs to find a large circular pad on the floor of what was otherwise an empty room. Not knowing what else to do and feeling rather skeptical of her upcoming meeting with Control, she stepped on the pad. The circular area lit up, lifting to surround her. Shepard understood now: she was standing in a QEC.

Her new surroundings revealed a tall male turian wearing a casual black suit. His arms were folded neatly behind his back in anticipation. The military posture conveyed authority that would've had any other turian saluting in a heartbeat. She wasn't in the mood to be a good turian and didn't have time for his games.

"Commander Shepard," he called, pacing slowly around the room he was in. The area was dark, so she couldn't see much despite her improved vision.

"Control," she said, her speech delivery coming off a little cold. She crossed her arms while her new sub harmonics sung of her irritation. "I thought we were meeting face to face."

The man kept his ground, standing tall as he turned to look at her. A smile spread across his mandibles. From what she gathered, he looked pleased to see her. "I apologize for the miscommunication then. The precaution was necessary, and is not unusual for people who know what we know."

Her brow plates furrowed and her frown intensified tenfold. "And what is it that you and I know?"

He started pacing again, walking around her projected holographic form on his end. "We're going up against the greatest threat of our brief existence."

"The Reapers." She growled lowly at the mention of the machine race. If Control's organization brought her back for this reason, the Reapers had to be up to something. Nothing good ever came from their meddling.

He smiled at her again, putting a stop to his pacing. The man stood up straight and directed his full attention at her. His gaze was unsettling, like being mentally dressed down by your immediate superior. "I'm pleased to see your memory is still intact. The doctors did a good job. How are you feeling? Are you fit for duty?"

While she was hesitant to give Control any information pertaining to herself, she surmised that he wasn't an enemy. The establishment she was being held in didn't match those of any turian supremacist groups, Facinus being the main contender, and the two turians she talked to before didn't seem overly hostile, despite her upbringing as a human. At that observation, she decided to ease up on her hostile tone. The man seemed important and she still wanted answers from him. There was no need to be aggressive to a possible ally, especially one that brought her back from the dead. She would hold back on her suspicions for now.

"I'm fit for duty," she said bluntly. "What are the Reapers doing that you decided to bring me back?"

His brow plates furrowed into a frown. "We're at war. No one wants to admit it, but the Council races are under attack. While you were unconscious, entire colonies have been disappearing. The perpetrators are targeting human and turian colonists. From what we pieced together with our intelligence, we think someone is working for the Reapers just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign. You've seen it yourself and you defeated all of them. That's just one reason why we chose you."

Shepard inhaled. What he said was true and she agreed with his information, but that didn't tell her who he worked for or why they brought her back as a turian. "What organization decided that I was important enough to bring back?"

"Project Tarin, the project that brought you back to life, is a classified operation created and funded by Blackwatch." He raised his head up after the statement, standing tall and proud while he waited for her to soak up the information.

Shepard had heard a few things about the organization during her time as a Spectre. Blackwatch provided intelligence for the turian hierarchy and handled black ops. They were secretive and most operations conducted by the group were highly classified. In short, they made turian problems go away.

"We started the project after we found your corpse twenty three months ago. Blackwatch wanted your knowledge on the reapers and decided to bring you back in hopes that you would work with us. When the colonists started disappearing, our situation became more urgent and your cooperation was paramount."

She let out a breath that she didn't realize she was holding, her mandibles hugging tightly against her face. "If what you say about these disappearances is true, I would consider helping you. But before I do anything for you or Blackwatch, I want to know why I came back to life as a turian."

Control remained silent; he was quiet for longer than she would've liked. After a period of time that was too long to be considered comfortable, he spoke up again. "There were medical complications, commander. We could not regrow your body with what was left of your corpse. There was simply too little to work with. The doctors say that they could only recover your brain, but that was enough to transfer your memories into a new body. In hopes to avoid detection from Cerberus and other lethal organizations, we revived you as a turian."

Control's reasoning was lacking in context and proved to be more of a brief summary than any answer she had hoped for. Her mandibles twitched slightly as she thought it over. While it wasn't much information, it was more than she had a minute ago. She still didn't completely understand the circumstances that led to her revival as an entirely different species, but for now, she would go with it. Shepard turned her attention to Control again, staring directly at him.

She narrowed her eyes. "I want full access to the project files and a copy of the procedure report. It's my damn body and I want to know what exactly was done to bring me back. If you want my cooperation, those are my terms." Her sub harmonics dared him to challenge her as she bared her teeth, her mandibles close to her face. "Now, if it's like you said, colonists are going missing and we have no time to lose. I'll need a team, and a damn good one."

He pulled up his omnitool on his end, typing in a few commands before he looked at her again. "You'll get dossiers on our best operatives and some excellent specialists, should you convince them to work with you."

She shook her head. "I had an excellent team. I want the people who helped me stop Saren."

Control closed his omnitool interface, looking at her with a stern expression. "Commander, they moved on and are deeply entrenched in their lives. You may be alive, but as far as the galaxy is concerned, Jane Shepard is dead. No one will believe a lone female turian trying to convince the races that she is the first human Spectre."

Shepard's face softened slightly. She had never actually thought about that. When she woke up in the operating room of a turian space station, fighting her way through various Cerberus troopers, she hadn't considered that her friends moved on or that they might not actually recognize her. Given her current appearance, she figured her reunion with each wouldn't be pleasant. She had plates now, so Wrex might beat her up, Tali might be afraid of her, Liara might throw her through a wall, Kaiden wouldn't trust her, and Garrus… She had no idea what the sniper might do.

"Then what do you suggest?" She asked, her voice a little quieter than before. Shepard couldn't hide the sadness in her sub harmonics no matter how hard she tried.

He ignored the quiet whimpering emitting from her sub vocals as he pulled out a datapad, using it to authorize information pertinent to Shepard. "I suggest you forge a new path. Upon waking up, you were issued a new identity. One with a history detailing the actions of a brave turian soldier. As I stated previously, Systems Alliance Commander Jane Shepard is dead. Blackwatch Commander Novilea Dexilus, however, is very much alive."


End file.
